Ittefaq Nama

Ittefaq Nama
Very sad that Dilip Kumar has passed away. End of an area. I am a great fan of his, and his beautiful duets with Madhubala are hunting me. In London, there is plenty of time for R&R, so I will watch all Dilip’s old films again. In London, there is also time to dream. I dream that one day soon I will be vindicated, inshallah. I dream that I am PM again. Then suddenly dream becomes problematic.

I am taking off from Islamabad, to see Al-King. In my Louis Vitamin luggage there is large bagging bowel. Praiz Rashid Saab is with me. He says, “what a tragedy that we have to go begging to Al-Prince who is a prime suspect in murder of world renowned journalist.”

I issue cool breath. Thanda Saans. There was a time when I couldn’t harbour single negative thought about Al King and family. Now, I am devotee of democracy and freedom. But tragically, also leader of country that is constantly in need of beggary. Cool breath. Batter to concentrate on guard of horror that is lined up to say bye. I inspact the battalion, with their chests puffed out, guns at the ready, and I see a mirage in the distance. I ask Praiz Saab, “what that is?” He replies, “that is a shiver looking for a spine to run up.”

Anyways, we arrive in Land of Sand, and that is when dream truly becomes a nightmare. On way to our 7 star hotel, our escort stops at a McDonald’s and buys the clown standing outside. We kill the clown, cut him up, and eat it. I ask escort, “doesn’t he taste funny to you?”

We arrive at hotel to find every conceivable luyury has been provided for us. Huge suite, sauna, fridge packed with food – from sushi to saalan. There’s even a personal therapist. He sits me down and tells me that if I want to feel great, I have to finish what I start. I quickly finish triple cheeseburger meal with 2 pounder chocolate fudge cake, and I feel batter already.